


The Letter

by notjustmom



Series: Elementary [2]
Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Episode: s06e2 Once you've ruled out God, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-05-09
Packaged: 2019-05-04 07:33:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14588118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notjustmom/pseuds/notjustmom





	The Letter

"My father -" Sherlock looked up from the lock he was working on and paused before he finished her sentence for her, "is dead. Lin just called, funeral is tomorrow." She stopped and looked away from him, knowing he could still see everything that no one else did.

"I don't know."

"I didn't ask -"

"Watson. I'm still me. You want to know what you are supposed to feel. I've spent a lifetime losing people who I'm supposed to mourn, and I've never done it properly - just recently, I hallucinated my long dead mother - my father is the head of an international cabal, my brother is 'dead' on a Grecian isle, last I heard - apologies. You didn't know him. You knew him only as a homeless schizophrenic; on his good days, he recognised you, but you didn't know him. I wish I had an answer for you, Watson." He paused and looked away from her as he always did when he was about to make an offer that was out of his comfort zone.

Joan looked at him and shook her head. "No - I don't even know if I -"

"Go. If not for yourself, for Lin. Be there for her. You're beginning to hover too much, I'll be fine."

"Sherlock -"

"You'll regret it if you don't go. You know you will. I'll have things to do - someone has to supervise the rebuilding of the guest room/meditation/exercise room, and -"

"You'll rest," she suggested quietly, and watched his face change. She wondered when he had become so resigned; she knew the prognosis was uncertain at this point, but he had always been a fighter, as long as she had known him, now, when he wasn't frustrated, or actively working a case, he would rest quietly, blocking out the world, instead of immersing himself in it, as he once had. How much would he lose of himself before the healing began? She smiled at him as he nodded, then returned to picking the lock, something he had done hundreds if not thousands of times, he could do it blindfolded - she had seen him do it, on one of their slower days.

"Watson. You're woolgathering."

"Sorry. Thank you."

"What for?" He grumbled good-naturedly under his breath as he worked on the lock. If he wasn't who he was, she'd wrap her arms around him, perhaps kiss his cheek, but it wouldn't be welcome, and she knew it. He knew she was struggling nearly as hard as he was, and she tried not to let him see it, he didn't need to worry about how she was dealing with things, he had enough on his plate as it was.

"For being here," was all she could come up with.

"Where else would I be, Watson?" 

 

"What is this?" She asked Lin, as she handed her the long white envelope.

"Letter from Dad. It was important to him, it was in the middle of a dictionary - to keep it flat and safe, I guess."

"He wrote to both of us?"

"No, just to you. It's fine - no, really - it's good, at least he remembered one of us. I have to go." Lin turned away and disappeared into the crowd of the restaurant.

She slipped the envelope into her purse and headed back to the precinct, back to the case, at least there was always a case.

 

"I need a distraction. Usually I am distracted by work, but as I can't look at camera footage at the moment - so, how was lunch with your sister?"

"There wasn't a lunch. She had to show a listing -"

"What?"

"She gave me a letter, from my father."

"What did it say?"

"I don't know. I threw it away."

"You received a missive from your long-lost father, and you threw it away."

"The last letter I received from him was when I was in college, it was twelve pages of Chinese, took me hours to translate it, and I realised it was gibbering in any language, I didn't want to put myself through that again. I just feel bad for Lin -"

"What did you see?"

"How -"

"I'm just blind at the moment, not deaf, your breathing changed."

 

"Here."

"I had thrown it away."

"Yes, I know. But I think you should read it. I think it was written on one of his good days."

She raised an eyebrow at him.

"This letter is a piece of evidence in your longest unsolved case, Watson. You are too good of a detective not to consider all the evidence. If you had wanted to destroy it permanently, you would have used your shredder or burned it to ashes."

"Maybe I was lazy -"

"We both know you're nothing of the sort. From what I can tell, without reading it, is that it is a brief missive, care was taken, from experience I know, when one is lost in madness every word is necessary, and of the greatest importance; its very succinctness should tell you it was written on one of his good days - that is why you did not destroy it."

She nodded as she held it in her hands. "Maybe I'm just afraid of getting hurt again."

"Yes, there is a risk of that, but I think you know better. Good night, Watson."

 

"How long are you going to be visiting the cemetery?"

Joan sighed and turned her head to watch Sherlock fit another piece into the puzzle.

"One takes food when visiting, oranges are traditional - did you read the letter?"

"I have four more puzzles downstairs, if you liked Unicorn Utopia, you're going to love Pretty Princess Party."

 

"I read the letter. It wasn't what I expected."

"What do you mean?" Lin asked, puzzled by Joan's words.

"I don't know when he wrote it, but he must have known his illness was getting worse again - it was special. He wrote it to me, but it was about you. He wanted to be sure that I knew about you. He remembered you, Lin."


End file.
